Darkly Disturbed Dexter
by strikeamatchx
Summary: It's that pulsing, swollen, bright moon again. Hanging high in the sky – tauntingly. Calling to the dark beast within, begging, persuading...   Television Series Based - After Season 5 Finale - M for possible Mature Content
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter, the characters or any rights. This is only for entertainment and creative purposes only.

Reviews: Very much welcome.

Rated Mature for possible mature content.

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><p>It's that pulsing, swollen, bright moon again. Hanging high in the sky – tauntingly. Calling to the dark beast within, begging, persuading to sing – to play beneath it's haunting illuminant glow. The Dark Passenger within wants to, no, needs to play – to dip it's shaded fingers into the crimson liquid of a soul as dark as ours – no – possibly darker. But never could the crimson soaked soul be smarter than we – us. The Dark Passenger and I as a whole could outsmart or outrun even the worst offender because we are a force that cannot be thrown off of it's path, it's hunger for blood. But not one of my sensible co-workers could even point one of my moonlit playdates' murders to Dashing Dexter the trusty friend, colleague and blood spatter analyst. Or Daddy Dexter, the trust-worthy father who cares for his children but always gets his work done. No. I am not clumsy or messy – I am a very neat Monster.<p>

I have went a few nights without a moonlit playdate, not one slice of human flesh or a dry drop of crimson blood on a slide in my pocket or making small talk with my other trophies. No. Devious Dexter has not been on the hunt in far too long. My mind is on fire, my limbs are restless and I can't get no satisfaction with anything I try to busy myself with or keep my Dark Passenger from stealing the wheel while in public. Some might wonder what has been keeping me from pleasing the darkness within, giving it the taste it wants. The truth is simple. Harrison and my day job has kept me more busy than ever. It seems homicides in Miami never cease. The bar has been raised, more deaths keep racking up and there is no time to come up for air, always stuck in the small confined space that I do my work or with Harrison who keeps getting earaches – so I get little to no sleep at night. What happened to Sonya? Thankfully, she is coming back tonight. Turns out cousins choose a bad time to get married in places too far away – California for instance.

"Dexter, do you have the blood results on the Wade case?"

Wade case. Tammy Wade. A young woman in her mid thirties found sliced and diced in her four hundred a month condo. No husband, boyfriend, children or any relatives to contact. No sexually transmitted diseases traced in her blood. Not one ticket or any violation of Miami's laws. A real saint. Not so much for her attacker. I had to keep him out of reach of the Dark Passengers grip or LaGuerta would never let me go home.

"Right here, Lieutenant." I felt my Dark Passenger scold me from within, whimper even. He was ours. "Turns out there was a trace of DNA around the body of the victim, even linked it to one possible suspect. Lois Tunnel."

"Thank you, Dexter. You can go now." She flashed me a smile that felt all too familiar from years ago. I hope she doesn't start that again. It was hard enough trying to give her signs that I had no interest before, now that I'm a single – Happily single man, I don't know how much stronger she can come on before she seems desperate and starts crying in my lap. Happy thoughts.

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><p>Deb had been stuck at my place with Harrison all day. She took a couple of vacation time to help me with Harrison and his reoccurring ear-aches. It was about time she got back to Quinn, but I cannot deny that I do enjoy keeping her far from him as long as I can. As long as she was informing me on anything odd or off about him – I'm in the clear. Since I let him off on being suspected for murder months ago, he had been keeping his mouth shut and prying eyes off of me. At least he wasn't suspecting anything. I do not need another Doakes situation.<p>

"Deb, chain." For some odd reason Deb kept the chain on my apartment when keeping an eye on Harrison. I think she still has issues with trusting people or it could be a problem with being alone with Harrison. Maybe she doesn't want someone to come in and try to kill them both while I'm away at work. One reason I haven't told her not to do so.

"Sorry! Sorry. I'm such a dumb-ass. I should've memorized your schedule by now. It's just I was giving Harrison his bat-"

"You left him alone in the bathtub?"

"No. No no. I'm not that much of a dumbass. He's on your bed."

"Don't do that."

"Do what? Leave him on your bed?"

"No." I scoffed and my dark passenger had began laughing at me. Laughing that the once Devious Dexter had now become Distraught Dexter. "Scare me like that."

"I'm not a fuckup, okay. I know not to leave him in the bathtub full of water, Jesus."

"It wasn't full, right?" My son was safe, wrapped up in a blanket and slowly drifting off to sleep.

"No, Dexter. I have this dark side that wants to kill off your son."

"Very funny."

"Now, if you'll excuse me." she began walking out of the room, so I followed her.

"Does he have his medicine?"

"Yes, I gave him it after the bath. I'm off. Sonya called, said she would be here in a few minutes, but that was a few minutes ago. Where are you going anyway?"

"Out. I need some me time. Maybe a movie."

"With?"

For some reason Deb thinks I need to 'get out more' but I would have to disagree. I find it very comforting buying a ticket to a movie that I'll sneak out of halfway through then focus on getting this ache out of my limbs and mind. I need to kill and soon. Otherwise, I'll be sent out in a straight jacket. Not a pretty picture.

"No one. I'm going alone. Maybe you should try it sometime."

"I thought you liked Quinn?"

"I don't have a problem with Quinn. Doesn't mean I don't like him … or that I like him."

"Yeah, yeah."

It took another twenty minutes of tip-toeing around the house before Sonya arrived. She brought gifts for the both of us and sat herself up on the couch. After I stepped out into the light of the moon everything seemed clearer. As if I had come up for air after being pulled under with the current for so long. I finally could breathe. My mind began to think more rapidly and the plan I had kept in the back of my mind began to unravel very neatly in my head. Tonight is the night. I cannot allow myself to get carried away, I must be precise. When it is all said and done my Dark Passenger will finally have some release. We will get to carve the best well prepared meal tonight for the hungry shadows that dwell deep within us and tonight the dinner guest will see the precise edges and preparation we are capable of. Tonight he will look into the faces of those he has filleted and skinned to the bone. Tonight they will have his head on a platter. Jerome Gideon will dine by candle light tonight and he will be accompanied by two dark souls at the table with a hunger more powerful then his own.

After setting the bait, I appreciated the waiting time. It was silent, dark and still – Something I hadn't had in a while. My mind focused on bringing out the Dark Passenger to play. We were no longer in time out. The moon was high and calling as the shadow of our new playmate began to surface beyond the shadowed trees. Jerome crossed the street like a chameleon blending in well with his surroundings as I do with mine. He rounded my vehicle as expected with his hands in his pockets, looking for Adrian – the drug addict willing to spend over two grand on what Jerome was offering on the streets. Adrian had family money and told Jerome that when placing his order. Asking if someone could get two grand worth one night and maybe some more the next if possible since he just inherited money but couldn't spend it all in one night afraid his relatives might suspect something was off. To Jerome, Adrian also offered something Adrian wasn't aware of, a chest to empty ten bullets into. Quick cash. Killing wasn't an issue with him.

There was one thing he didn't expect. One thing he wasn't focusing on. Devious Dexter and his Blood Demanding Dark Passenger silently lurking behind him with needle ready. It took less than ten minutes to get him into the back of my vehicle and around fifteen minutes to secure him to our table. The feast needed to simmer first before being marinated and served.

Our kill room was situated and on display in a house that belonged to his last victim – A young man named Raymond. Raymond was a bright college student with a future who decided to go to a party one night but instead of going un-noticed someone told him to pick up a few things to make the party more thrilling. The pit stop he made in a bad area of town was the last one Raymond ever had. Jerome had stolen everything in Raymond's pockets, shot him and made it look like a robbery. But his tracks were covered, as always. Though my Dark Passenger and I can see through him. We know the ugly truth and we have found evidence over the past few days to make him worthy to taste the edge of our blade.

We had at least thirty photos of his victims lined along the wall for him to see. Thirty. There were others but we weren't one hundred percent about those. These would do just fine.

"W-Where am I?"

"You don't recognize the place?" We opened our hands and glanced around at all of the plastic. "I guess you wouldn't considering you can only glance at a distance being bound like that and it's under all of this plastic."

"W-Who are you?"

"More like what." We made our way to the table and pried his eyes open with our fingers so he couldn't blink. "Why did you hurt all of these people?" we forced his face towards the ones he murdered. "Was it for money? Or for pure pleasure?"

"I-I didn't hurt those people, man. I don't know what you're talking about!"

Yelling. It never helped, yet most found a need to do so. I really don't want to go home with a headache tonight.

"Okay. How about this then. Which of those did you kill?"

"None!"

"Then who did?"

"This man – man. He'll lie, but I'll tell ya. He did it. He killed them. All of 'em."

"Name?"

"I-uh. I"

"Come on! If you know who did it, then it must be easy to give me a name."

"Rick! Rick. Rick."

"Rick who?"

"Crew! He killed 'em."

"You know, that's funny, his body recently turned up in a swamp about five miles from here."

"What?"

"Yeah. I dug him out. Found your dumping ground. The gators must have gotten the rest. They already have some of Rick, but don't worry, I disposed of the body properly so no one finds it or traces it and the prints you left on it to you. You're clean, Jerome. Like you've always been...until tonight."

We were right about that. He made a mess of the marinating sauce and Dinner had been served. My Dark Passenger and I had the best meal we had – had in a long time. We cleaned up well, washed our hands of him on our boat and trotted off home after-wards, content. Finally.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter, the characters or any rights. This is only for entertainment and creative purposes only.

Reviews: Very much welcome.

Rated Mature for possible mature content.

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><p>Miami heat. It is just as refreshing as a glass of orange juice in the mornings. Nevertheless, I wanted badly just to go back into the cool confines of my apartment, relieve Sonya of her babysitting duties and sleep the day away. My body still hadn't caught up with all of the hours I missed while she was away and Deb was working. While on that topic, Deb was finally back in the office today and what a day to come back, we were already out on the field. A field that had accumulated over a thousand people waiting to catch a glimpse at the family inside.<p>

A Father is in question. One of his one night stands was found dead this morning by his famous daughter, actress Shirley Rich. What a last name, I know. It's houses like these, the ones with over twenty bedrooms, ten bathrooms and a living room that could fit my entire apartment into it's space, that make me question why they just leave the body of some prostitute laying outside under the baking sun by the glistening water of a pool that could fit two limo's inside. So many hiding places, so many ways to leave her and if he was truly as rich as he claimed in those magazine interviews then why not cover it up? Or maybe he already did.

"The daughter said she came home from spending the night at a friends house, partying, decided to go for her daily swim, way she said she keeps fit and gets time to herself, then said she found no name here dead near the pool before taking a swim."

"Suspect is the father."

"Right. So, the blood speaking to you yet, Dexter?"

"Hmm. It looks like it would be a simple she slipped and fell. The head is caved in a bit from the corner of her eye to a few inches over the ear, see?"

"Yeah, I see that."

"I would say not a fall, more like there was a bit of a struggle, see how her wrist is bruised?"

"It's under her though."

"It's bruised in a way that put up a fight, all around, not just if she had fell on it."

"Right."

"I'd say wait until we find some dna or have a witness."

"Did you guys find anything?" Shirley had walked towards us in her swimsuit, she looked spoiled, but then again most celebrities do.

"Unsure." Angel, so quick to hide any possible ideas from suspecting ears and eyes.

"It wouldn't be the first time you haven't found anything."

"Excuse me?" That hit a nerve for him.

"Well, I'm just saying, he's done this before. Remember two months ago, you guys were out here for three hours."

"The jumping incident." I chimed in. I remember because I hadn't seen that much blood since I had killed, it was one of the images I couldn't get out of my Dark Passengers mind all week, until Jerome.

"Right. That one." Shirley was getting a little angry.

"Has he ever hurt you in anyway?" Angel the ever caring man. How do they do that? Even with the facial expressions, seem to care so much about strangers.

"Yes, but of course, no one understands or believes me. Spoiled little rich girl, she has to be lying because her father couldn't hurt a fly. Yeah, right."

"We don't think like that. Let's get you situated in a hotel tonight with an officer so you'll be safe."

"Thank you. Will I get to testify against him? I know a lot more than you'd think" Why was she looking at me? I quickly averted my eyes away from her and Angel and onto the victim. I had to have been right with this one. With the way the blood spatter came from the spot where her head was laying it looked like her head had been bashed in, not to mention the wrist bruises.

Vince and I spent about two hours on scene, I spent most of it with the body and he looked around the house. The only other thing I was needed for was blood in the bathroom sink that seemed to have been washed off and left there – a little messy for someone who made the last murder look so staged – and some bloody footprints that had been seemingly scrubbed away leading from the pool to the bathroom, the shoe size was definitely a match to the shoes Mr. Rich had been wearing at the crime scene but they were squeaky clean.

I finally got back in my office in time for lunch. A pork-chop sandwich with french fries and a large cola. Once I fed the starving beast that resided in my stomach, I began my dirt digging. I could trace Amos Rich at five murder scenes within the past year, before that it was in California, only two though.

Guess Daddy Dearest had a darkness in him that he needed to let out. Most of the women were ones he knew.

"Dex, come in here, you have got to fucking see this." Deb barged in like I wasn't doing anything important, lucky for me and my Dark Passenger I have very fast fingers.

Almost everyone in our little group of cops were huddled at Batista's desk, eyes forward in LaGuerta's office. "W-What am I looking for?"

"You don't see the leggy blonde woman chewing LaGuerta's ear off?" Vince pointed, my eyes followed. The blonde was talking, not chewing as he put it. It seemed more like a natural conversation with too many hand movements and a few smiles on LaGuerta's part. However, no one could see the blonde's face.

"Who is she?" I finally asked, looking at my co-workers.

"Fucking FBI." Deb concluded. "One of our guys got pulled out on an assignment for them...so naturally...they sent us a fill in."

"What's so big about it?"

"We have a fucking chick from FBI here to boss the fuck around. She's not over any of us, told we should treat her like we do each other. Fucking ace."

"Okay. That's..." I was at a loss for words. I really didn't see a need in having some FBI agent here to help all of us out. Especially with my Dark Passenger finally getting to stretch his limbs again. Hopefully she wouldn't be nosy or in my business. If she kept herself at a safe distance then I think we all might get along. Before I could finish my sentence or get my train of thought back to what I was saying she stepped out. Blond curls, long legs, what any natural man would find attractive. But the sight of her awoke something deeper than attraction or the rabid animal most men let loose on prostitutes...no this was something darker that growled from the dark depths of Devious Dexter, something... "Killer."

"Damn right it is." Deb nudged me then made her way over to the woman that was now etched into my Dark Passenger's mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter, the characters or any rights. This is only for entertainment and creative purposes only.

Reviews: Very much welcome. Come on you guys, it helps me know if you like this or not.

Rated Mature for possible mature content.

* * *

><p>She had already been here, where I work, for over a week. I tried avoiding her as much as I could. Not even a glance, if I gave in to the stare it would cost her more than a second of awkwardness, it would cost her the life she knew. It would also cost me the lie I tried to withhold for so long. Dashing Dexter would be revealed for the Devious Dangerous Dexter he really is. The Dexter who betrayed the people around him in order to kill those they let out on the streets. Everything would come into question, my son would be taken away. That couldn't happen. But the ever Delightful Dexter would never put his son in harms way nor kill an innocent woman. There was nothing dark about her apart from the inviting thoughts that entered my mind on a regular basis. I had even began dreaming of her, I also hadn't killed since Jerome. Nothing looked remotely interesting to my Dark Passenger. I had no drive to find any killer in the world, only her. She was the only growl I got from my Passenger. The only nudge, smirk, or even a dazing smile. We needed to strip her of her clothing, tie her down to our table, break her limb by limb just to hear her scream. The collarbone would come first, then we'd do something about those sturdy legs that taunted us under that pencil skirt – maybe do those while she's standing so we can watch her fall, then would come those eyes...<p>

"Dexter?" Her voice interrupted my thought process.

"Anna, Hi." The ever Dashing Dexter being so polite.

"Hi. I just wondering if you got the second results from the Rich case that were sent in earlier?" She perched herself on the edge of my desk.

"Um. Yeah, right here." I want to break your neck.

"Thanks, Dexter." Our fingers grazed each other, was that on purpose? Those could be broken too. Maybe first depending on how much they touch me.

"Not a problem."

"Are we alright? I know it sucks having someone new in, but I'm not going to walk all over you. And I don't bite, that I can promise...well not unless asked to." She laughed, so naturally Actor Dexter performed with flying colors along with her laughter.

"No, we're fine. Don't worry about it. I'm sure everyone here likes you." Apart from the need to kill you right now. No ones watching. Just one simple prick from my needle and the scalpel in my desk drawer could easily find home in her skin...

"Good. Just making sure. I'm not here to settle in or anything, should be gone before you know it."

"Let's hope not." Please disappear...

Within a matter of seconds she was out the door with the smile I wanted so badly to see in pain. Her lips, eyes, hands, every limb writhing with agony. Now my Dark Passenger felt restless.

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><p>"Briefing room in two minutes." LaGuerta called out to me. I had spent the day mulling over all of the evidence and trying to find a key suspect that was interviewed in the Rich case. If it wasn't for a Jack The Ripper copier during the week that took up most of our time this case wouldn't have been pushed aside. Luckily 'The Ripper' was behind bars now.<p>

We all filled in as quickly as she had called the announcement out.

"The father is no longer with his daughter, she's frantic that he'll try to kill her if she tries to speak out on what she has seen over the years. We brought her in today and have a few cops watching her hotel to make sure he doesn't try to make contact with her and a few others outside of their house to make sure he doesn't come home without us knowing."

I zoned out. I rarely zone out. My Dark Passenger had taken the wheel from me, taken hold of the reins, it was his turn to drive. The weirdest part was that my eyes just kept on focusing on her eyes, lips, neck, and limbs. The things that could be cut and broken with the slightest touch, just a small touch...I didn't even notice I had walked straight across the room and was standing right infront of her, eyes meeting. I didn't want to stare at her, stare into her like this.

"Dexter?" A smile played along her lips, a smile I wanted to wash away and leave nothing but pain in it's wake. "Is there something you needed?"

"Uh." My Dark Passenger wanted to speak. No. I couldn't let him, couldn't allow it. "What do you think of Kni-Uh. A nice coffee. You look tired."

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

I nodded and pushed my back against the wall beside of her. She saw me. She had to have seen into me somehow...Why was she staring my way? Her collarbone tempting me...

"Can I get a coffee?"

"Sure, Dexter." LaGuerta nodded my way.

"Thank you..." I stumbled out of the briefing room like a buffoon. What was she making of me? Making of my Dark Passenger?

I took wide steps towards the coffee pot, not leaving any room for anyone to say one word to me. It felt like my brain was on fire, hotter than the coffee pumping out of the machine before me, hotter than the steam rolling from my coffee cup as I poured the molten liquid, hotter than the feeling of my mouth as it went down. This was something that hadn't happened since I was fifteen, something I thought I could control.

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><p>"<em>Dexter. Look at me son." Harry, My father had gripped me by the arm. "What were you about to do to that girl?"<em>

"_I can't help it, Dad. Ever since she transferred in to my class I haven't been able to get my mind off of her. She just won't leave it!"_

"_What do you mean, off of your mind, how?"_

"_I want to hurt her, bad. I don't think I can stand living with myself if I don't. The darkness, it wants her more than anything."_

"_Push the darkness away. Remember what I've been teaching you, Dexter. You control it, not the other way around."_

"_It's harder than it looks."_

"_I know it is, but killing her isn't going to make It go away."_

"_Yes it will. I know it will."_

"_No, it won't. It'll only come on stronger. Next thing you know, you'll want to kill Deb and I too."_

"_It won't. It's just her."_

_Harry sighed, disappointment covering his face as he shook his head. The young girl was now out of sight without even an inkling that I was about to drag her into the alleyway and cut her like I had never cut anyone before. It seemed like such a perfect moment...until Harry showed up and she got away._

"_Dexter. Understand, I'm not doing this to punish you. I'm doing this to help you."_

"_I know."_

"_Then you'll go home and get ready for dinner."_

"_What about her?"_

"_She doesn't know what was about to happen. Just leave her alone, okay?"_

"_I'll try to avoid her..."_

"_Good, Dexter. It'll save your life one day. Remember that."_

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><p>If only Harry was here to tell me what to do when avoiding doesn't work. When all I do is think and dream about hurting her...no, killing her. When my Dark Passenger tries to take control again.<p>

"Dexter?"

Oh, great.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter, the characters or any rights. This is only for entertainment and creative purposes only.

Reviews: Very much welcome. Come on you guys, it helps me know if you like this or not.

Rated Mature for possible mature content.

* * *

><p>"Anna.." I mumbled, trying to sound as normal as possible. "Hi again."<p>

"I thought I'd go ahead and take you up on that coffee." she seemed normal, as if I hadn't just weird-ed her out. That's a good sign.

"Uh...Alright." So naturally being Dashing Dexter, I gave her my cup and poured me another.

"Thanks."

"Not a problem." I flashed her a slight smile and stuck my left hand into my pocket.

She nodded, then her eyelids flickered down toward her coffee cup. How I wanted to pluck them off of her face like a chickens feather. It wouldn't be too hard. Just one slice here and there, then pull. The sound of the ripping flesh would be welcoming to the beast within me, My Dark Passenger.

"Dexter?"

"Yeah?" I kept my eyes on my cup of coffee, watching as the cream mixed with the dark abyss making it just a slight bit lighter. Reminds me of something else...a Dexter that felt ages old, like a distant memory I could no longer reach.

"Fuck yeah!" Deb screamed throughout the precinct.

"What's going on?" Anna asked, her eyes wide.

"We got him! He tried to come home and we fucking got him! I'm going to go greet the bastard at the doors now. Yes! Another scumbag off the fuckin' streets, you know?" Then she was off.

LaGuerta came over to us right after. "We're all going out to dinner tonight, fancy clothes people. We'll all meet at eight-thirty over at OLA. I've already made reservations so if you are allergic to the Latino atmosphere, you're fired." We all laughed heartily at her remark.

Once Mr. Rich arrived with Deb holding his hands like she had just killed a prized buck, all eyes were on her and him...apart from Anna and I.

"Good. I have something I need to discuss with you tonight, I won't take no for an answer."

"Okay, we can talk about it at dinner." I replied.

"No, it has to be alone." Then she thrust a piece of white paper into my pocket in such a way no one would see her. How I wanted to break those fingers... "Meet me at my address, on the paper, thirty minutes to an hour earlier than the dinner."

"Why do we have to be alone?"

"Just come, okay? Don't talk about it here or to anyone."

Then she left to join the crowd of cheering officers. Had she finally noticed me? Had my stunt caused a light to go off in her FBI head? I would have to come prepared tonight for the worst and I am not taking no for an answer from my Dark Passenger.

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><p>The day at work seemed to last longer than the others. Every hour dragged on as if it were five hundred years I had lived in the small amount of time I had left there. My mind running through so many scenarios that it felt like it was about to explode like the bomb in my life this <em>Anna<em> had planted. Luckily I had a few breaks, like when the interrogation was going on, Anna had stayed exactly where I could see her, so I had nothing to question. However Mr. Rich wouldn't admit to his killings, said it wasn't him and that he was framed. A typical Hollywood father trying to get out of whatever he had done. He even offered cash to everyone there that could say it wasn't him in the court room. However tempting ten grand was to some, everyone declined. Even Quinn, which surprised me.

Once I got off of work, I felt like I could breath and finally think. Everything had been so loud and then It was as if I had deafened myself and could feel the weight of their voices lifting off of my chest. The problem was if I was going to meet her an hour before the dinner I didn't have much time to get ready or to think. I decided on an hour just in case I needed to keep up appearances and kill an FBI agent at the same time. I couldn't be sloppy no matter the circumstances.

I showered, ate some of my favorite tropical fruit, dressed myself in a black and white suit with a maroon tie to humor myself in case there had to be blood shed, and stuck the animal tranquilizer in my coat pocket. I could deal with her kitchen utensils if I absolutely had to.

My Dark Passenger was restless. I shouldn't be excited, one rule of the code was not to get emotionally attached and I was. I had been itching to kill her since I set my eyes on the blonde. But now, just the thought of killing her set me, Dexter, on edge. My Dark Passenger was ready but I wasn't. Everything had to be clean, no marks, nothing messy, but my mind was overlooking everything. I couldn't wear my suit, I had to wear my kill uniform. How could I not get my tuxedo messy with her hot sticky blood, how could I not spill even a drop...I wanted to spill it all. I had no plastic. Nothing to cover the room.

I would use something she had. A coat, anything to cover myself. She had a shower in her apartment, surely, if not a tub would do. I could clean myself, bring my kit...I didn't have enough space for that in my suit.

_It's time._ The doorbell had rang and Sonya entered, ready to keep watch. Then I, Dashing Dexter, was out the door.

By the time I had made it to my car, I had noticed one major thing I had forgotten during all of the excitement and thinking. My car keys. After going back to the apartment to get my keys, I then headed over to her place.

_This is a bad idea, Dexter. You're too excited. You need to calm down, son. If you don't it might not end well for the both of you. Think of Harrison and what you are sacrificing here. If you make one mi_-

"I won't!" I yelled, no – not me. That wasn't me. That was _him_. My Dark Passenger.

I had arrived right on time. One hour before the dinner. The place was nice, a small house, two neighbors who appeared to be out at the moment, no dogs or children. All fit and ready in case I needed to get rid of her.

Anna's shadow was in the window, pacing the floor it seemed. Was she afraid of facing me alone for fear of what I was capable of? She should be...


End file.
